


Log Number Whatever

by LazyCakes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Rover is alive screw you, Sleep Deprivation, Sleep Walking, could be platonic but shipping things is more fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyCakes/pseuds/LazyCakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pidge has locked himself away from the other Paladins, refusing sleep. What has he been up to? Shiro is both concerned and nosy. (Takes place between Season 1 Episodes 4 and 5)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written at three in the morning based on my need to project my emotions onto the precious space smol. Sleep gods, have mercy on me.

“Okaaay...log number...uh...I don't know what log this is, actually...okay.” 

Pidge rubbed his eye behind his glasses and then brushed through his hair with a groan. “Uh, anyway...it has been something like thirty-seven earth hours since my last sleep cycle, but I really think I'm onto something here. The Galra transmissions I intercepted included a transport log of live cargo, and…” He yawned loudly, shivering before inhaling again. “...and I'm still deciphering it now, but one of the stops it made was on a planet not far from the camps Shiro thinks my dad was originally sent to. I'm close. I can tell. My family--their information--is  _ in here _ . I just--just need to get it figured out.” 

He looked at the screen of his computer blearily. The camera reflected a face marred by exhaustion, heavy circles under drooping and bloodshot eyes, a mouth thin with concentration, glasses perpetually sliding down the bridge of a nose sniffling from the cold. 

Pidge had locked himself in the cryo-case room, so the cooler atmosphere would help keep him awake. There were also four now-empty mugs of what had been some gross drink Coran had made--it reminded Pidge of coffee, but seemed to have much more caffeine--around where he was sitting, cross-legged on the floor and leaned against the control panel he was charging his computer from. 

He’d done just about everything to keep himself awake, but he was running out of ideas, and he was very, very tired. 

The computer dinged, and his lolling head was up in an instant. 

 

_ 15% Decrypted. _

 

“Right, uh, end transmission for log whatever.” He clicked the camera closed and went back to work. Stuck in the corner of the screen, the picture of his brother and himself--well, back then,  _ herself-- _ smiled up encouragingly. Pidge tightened his jaw, pushed his glasses back up, and began to type again. 

 

Four human hours and three percent of additional decryption later, Pidge finally pushed the laptop off of his lap. The loss of heat triggered a shuddering spasm, which was fortunate for him, or he would've nodded off.

“Stay awake, stay awake!” He scowled, smacking his head above his ear. “You're too close now!” 

_ Breep _ ?

“Oh, hey, Rover. Glad to see someone’s charged up.” 

The little droid whizzed around the room excitedly, pleased at itself for having opened the door alone. It settled and scanned Pidge, then began emitting quiet shrieks. If it was actually speaking, only Pidge would've been able to tell. 

“No! I'm not sleeping, not yet, I have to wait until this is done decrypting!” 

_ Groowrp! _

“I know it'll take hours, but what if something goes wrong? I have to monitor it!” 

Even though he was speaking determinedly, Pidge could hardly even open his mouth to speak, and as Shiro came through the door left open by Rover to see who else was awake so late at night, Pidge collapsed against the control panel, exhaustion finally taking over. 

 

Shiro had entered the room confrontational, almost angry, but when he saw that it was only Pidge, his brow softened a bit. 

He had been in what sounded like a heated argument with Rover, gesturing to the laptop on the ground next to him, when he suddenly slumped over. Shiro barely caught his head before it hit the sharp glass screen of the panel he was leaned against. 

“Pidge? You okay?” 

Then he looked down and saw the empty cups of what sounded like straight adrenaline, from Coran’s description, and Pidge’s baggy cowl-necked sweater unzipped to let cold air circulate through it, and the computer that had been running non-stop for forty hours and twelve minutes (as it counted in a small window in the bottom corner), and Shiro began to understand where Pidge had disappeared to after the team’s last intense argument on deck. Nobody had dared to go after him, not after what Keith had pulled. It seemed that he’d locked himself in, because Shiro definitely remembered checking this wing of the castle earlier. 

Pidge must've been working away the tension. 

Shiro could respect that; at least he hadn't smashed a window, like a certain other mulleted paladin. 

He lifted Pidge easily with his human arm; the kid was hardly smaller than his brother, and Shiro definitely remembered being able to throw Matt with ease. He didn't really like to touch people with the other arm, anyway. He figured it made them uncomfortable. Pidge fell forward against his chest with a huff, otherwise not stirring as Shiro cradled his neck carefully upright, worried about pulling his muscles. Just from a steadying touch, he could feel how tense they were. Had he really not slept in all this time? Carrying Pidge as if he was merely a sleepy toddler, Shiro left the room where they’d first found Allura, the computer still working dutifully, Rover hovering near where Pidge’s hand hung from over Shiro’s shoulder. 

It wasn't until Shiro reached the hall of bedrooms the Paladins occupied that he realized that he didn't know which room Pidge was using. If he was using any of them, Shiro thought; Pidge didn't seem to sleep a regular cycle, rather napping for an hour or two at a time, and sometimes in ridiculous places. He understood the break room’s rounded couch, but nearly had a heart attack each time he walked into the kitchen and saw Pidge on top of one of the cupboards. The kid was like a cat. He glanced at the doors to the rooms he knew were occupied; Hunk slept in the room closest to the opening of the hall, on the left, and Lance’s room was across from his, though Shiro knew for a fact that he was currently asleep in Keith’s room, the one with the smallest windows, one apart from Hunk’s and two apart from the end of the hall. He knew because he could hear the snoring even from where he stood in the entrance to the hallway. Keith wasn't there, either way; he was probably still blowing off steam on the training deck.

That left seven rooms, three of which had never been unlocked, and two of which were equipped with cribs instead of beds. The only two possible rooms Pidge could've been using were the one next to Lance’s and the one across from his own. Shiro assumed that Pidge would sooner throw himself out the airlock than willingly sleep so close to someone who snored so loudly, but he realized that he had never once seen Pidge in this hall at all. He glanced down at him, sleeping silently against his shoulder, glasses sliding across his face, hair sticking up and matted down in varying places. 

The door to his own room slid open and he stepped inside. Rover beeped from the doorway, but didn't seem to want to follow. Shiro pulled the already-messy tangle of sheets and blankets to the end of the bed, retrieved one of his pillows from where it had been thrown across the room, and laid Pidge down. Still, he didn't stir, not even as Shiro pulled the covers back around him and tucked him snugly in. He sat at the edge of the bed and found himself gently brushing Pidge’s hair out of his face, pulling his glasses off and closing them, laying them on the bed. Shiro smiled; he might've even laughed quietly as he stood and left the room. 

  
  
He wasn't tired anyway, he thought as he yawned and stretched his arms above his head. The nightmares weren't worth it, he thought as he began to pace through the castle again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a good dose of angst to go with your character analysis :D

“...but, anyway, I think we might actually have a chance, for once. I mean, I never thought that before, but none of us have died yet, so, I guess I shouldn't jinx it.”

“Pidge? How did you get back here?”

Shiro had been walking past the room he’d first found the green paladin in when he heard him talking. He’d backpedaled and rushed into the room, only to find it empty. 

On guard, his arm crackled with energy as he crept against the wall. 

“End log number sixty-three. Hopefully, this isn't my last entry.” 

Pidge’s voice echoed from the laptop, still open, and Shiro sighed. His arm dropped weakly to his side. His footsteps echoed up into the vaulted ceiling as he crossed the room and crouched in front of the laptop. Pidge’s face, focused on the camera like it always was in front of a computer screen, stared back. Shiro sat down and pulled the computer into his lap. On the side of the screen, another window was open, text running across it at a brutal pace, a small bar on the bottom filled to just under twenty percent. In the very corner, a crumpled picture of Matt and Katie--er, Pidge, (Shiro sometimes had to remind himself that the other paladins didn't yet know, and that he had promised Pidge’s secret would be safe) was jammed into the screen. The video recorder took up most of the space on the screen, and Shiro watched the almost-triumphant Pidge in his baggy sweater, willowy shoulders lost in it, change to Pidge with a bandage across his cheek, his paladin uniform scraped and burned. 

The new Pidge on the screen sighed as he pulled his helmet off and ran a hand through his hair, hurt. 

“Log number sixty-four…” He took a deep breath and sighed it out, glancing at himself in the camera. “...we failed. Completely.” 

Shiro’s brow fell over his eyes, concerned. The Pidge on screen sat hollowly, staring past the computer and out what Shiro assumed was the windshield of the green Lion. “... _ I _ failed. Not we.” He finally said, slowly, still staring out into space. “I knew I was running right into a trap, but I heard Shiro scream…and…” 

Pidge took a harsh, shaking breath, and Shiro realized that he was fighting back tears. When he spoke again, his voice was pitchy and broken. “...and I panicked, I--I couldn't imagine leaving him to torture and I know I should've been able to ignore it, I should've been able to complete my initiative, maybe if I had I would've been able to stop the Galra’s Crystal from infecting the castle, maybe I would've been able to stop this all before the Erusians got hurt, maybe--maybe--” 

Pidge gasped back a sob, the sound like a knife ripping through silk, his shaking hands gripping the armrests of his seat until his knuckles turned white, tears tracking silvery marks down his face. He shuddered in deep breaths, pulling his glasses off and wiping at his eyes roughly. Amidst his hiccups, he tried to speak again. “--but, but I heard Shiro scream, and, and...I don't know...something...something just snapped in me. I...I abandoned my position, I abandoned my initiative, and--and because of it, I was captured, Shiro was tortured even more, Lance--Lance almost  _ died _ , I...I just…” He sighed shakily, angrily. “I can't believe I was so  _ stupid _ .” 

He punched the armrest hard enough to shake the computer out of his lap, and when he picked it up again, there was a splatter of blood across his chin and lower lip. “End--end log number sixty-four.” 

There was a small cut of interference before the next log played, giving Shiro no time to process what he'd seen before another Pidge was on screen, a Pidge with smudged glasses and his hair clipped back from his face with a paperclip, a blanket thrown around his shoulders and Rover in his lap. It looked like he was sitting up in the rafters somewhere. The log had barely begun before he was talking so rapidly that it all seemed to come out as one word. 

“Lognumbersixtyfive HOLY COW I AM TIRED IhavebeenworkingwithAlteanforatleastsixhoursnowbutIthinkIunderstandenoughtoreadthesedocumentsbutjustincaseIequippedRoverwithalanguageprocessorthatsallfornowendlognumbersixtyfive!” 

Immediately, it flashed to another log. Some part of Shiro knew he shouldn't have been watching this, it was like watching a diary, but Paladins weren’t supposed to have secrets, right? And either way, the next transmission was already playing. 

Pidge was laying on his back on the floor of the training deck without his sweater, breathing heavily. The edges of his binder jutted out of the collar of his shirt, which he was using to wipe his forehead. Shiro couldn't remember a single time he’d seen Pidge so winded; he must've been training on his own. 

“Log number...sixty-six? I think? I just burned something like all my calories, which would have been great if I thought I was gaining any muscle at all.” Pidge rolled over and groaned. “I need to be stronger; why can't I be stronger? I'm the weakest link…end, end log number sixty-six.” Pidge’s hand moved over the keyboard, but he must've pushed the wrong button, because the camera kept recording. He pushed himself up; the muscles of his arms were twitching from strain and overuse. His feet and hands were wrapped carefully, properly, but not quite tight enough. He lifted a sparring blade and swung it over his head, walking away from the computer and leaving it playing. “Training: Battle Sim Nine, Level Eighteen!” 

At his command, three training droids dropped from the ceiling and immediately sprang to the ready. Pidge was not nearly strong enough or skilled enough to fight the level he’d ordered, Shiro knew it. He could only see the corner of the deck from where the computer had been left, Pidge’s back heel visible as one droid circled him. It sounded like he was holding his own for a bit, a droid falling defeated in Shiro’s area of vision, but then he heard Pidge move to block and a sickening crack. The grunt of pain and shock that followed, and then the clumsy rush to block again as the droid that struck him moved to end the attack. Pidge backed into view, barely holding up against one droid as the other swiftly knocked his feet out from under him. He rolled to defense with incredible agility, but failed to block the next attack, and the droid’s training staff hit him in the side of the head. His glasses came flying off, landing just in front of the camera. The door slid open as Pidge threw up a hasty block to one droid and managed a blow at the other, hitting it square in the chest and ending its simulation. The final droid knocked Pidge to the ground and locked its foot over his chest as someone else’s legs ran into view. 

“Whoa, whoa! Cancel, cancel, cancel!”

“Keith, no, I can do this!” 

Pidge shouted as the droid on top of him collapsed at the order. Keith ran into the frame, pulling the droid off of Pidge and immediately lifting his teammate by the collar of his shirt and throwing him against the wall. 

Shiro’s fist tightened. 

“What were you thinking?! I couldn't even have handled that!”

“I got two out of three, Keith, I could've got the last one too!” Pidge shoved Keith away and slid down the wall, using it as support as his hands clamped down over his side, where the droid’s first attack must have fallen. 

“No, you couldn't have! What are you even doing here alone? You could've been killed by that!” 

The droid in front of the laptop fell through the floor, and blood started to spread from under Pidge’s fingertips. Keith took a heavy breath, pacing a few steps back and forth as Pidge glared at him, ignoring what was obviously blinding pain. “Pidge, I swear, that was reckless even for me! If Shiro knew what you we-”

“-Don't tell the others. Please. Please.” 

Pidge’s angry tone turned in an instant as he begged, nothing short of fear plastered on his face. He grabbed Keith’s arm; Keith jerked away at seeing the bloody handprint left behind. “Don't tell. Please.” 

“I--okay, okay. I won't tell, but you better not do something this stupid again! Is that your blood? You need to go to the infirmary. C--come on.”

“I can get myself there.” 

Pidge limped over to his glasses and knelt down to pick them up. He realized the computer was still on after putting them back on, and shut it quickly. 

 

The next transmission started. 

 

Shiro finally understood where Keith’s outburst had come from on deck; he had come in shouting and immediately pinned Pidge to the wall, just like he had in the video, but that time the others were there, and confused, immediately attacked.  _ Nobody  _ was allowed to hurt Pidge; it was just a kind of unspoken rule. Nobody was allowed to even rough house with him more than he was willing, and Allura had to be held back by Coran as Keith punched Pidge directly in the nose. Lance had to be held back, too, Hunk pulling him into a bear hug even though he looked just as murderous, but Shiro...there was nothing to protect Keith from Shiro’s anger. Pidge and Keith stared at each other, Pidge shocked as blood had begun to pour from his nose, over his mouth and down to his clothes, Keith glowering and prepared to hit again. Shiro had crossed the room in seconds and locked his robotic arm onto Keith’s shoulder with bruising force, flinging him easily across the room, trying to catch Pidge at the same time. 

“What is going on?!”

“ _ HE’S TRYING TO KILL HIMSELF, I SWEAR HE IS! _ ” Keith screamed from where he landed, slamming his fist into the window. It shattered around him as he got up, still yelling. “PIDGE, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU THAT I WASN’T GOING TO LET YOU DO SOMETHING SO STUPID AGAIN, YOU-”

“-Hold on, HOLD ON! Slow down, what's going on? Pidge? Pidge?!” Keith had come running back across the room, easily stopped by Shiro, who interrupted him and turned to Pidge, who was gone. The puddle of blood that had quickly formed took on the shape of footprints as it disappeared out the door. Shiro turned back to Keith, furious and shocked. “What happened?! What was that about?!” 

“Whatever. I don't care. He can let a droid kill him for all I care. His choice.” Keith snarled, stalking out. And just in time; Allura broke out of Coran’s grip the second the door shut, and still furious, had to be restrained by both Coran and Shiro. 

Keith refused to talk to anyone, and they had been completely unable to find Pidge. The others had no choice but to resign the subject, trying to clean the broken glass and blood from the control deck. 

  
  


But Pidge’s logs were still going.

  
  


“Log number…uh...sixty-seven, I think...Keith told the others. At least, I'm pretty sure he did...I don't know. I ran away as soon as he let go of me.” Pidge was mopping up blood from his nose with a spare bit of cloth, head tilted back. Rover was flying in and out of sight behind him, screeching. “I...I didn't want them to know that I was falling behind so much...or that I was deliberately breaking rules. I just…” Pidge sighed wearily. “I just want to be as strong as them.” 

Shiro sat back in shock. 

“Whenever we’re lined up, even if Lance is last and Keith isn't far behind, they're miles ahead of me. I can barely hold my own weight; Shiro could probably lift me in his sleep, and with only his human hand. I just want to be on even playing ground. Out here, in this life we’be been shoved into, weakness is lethal. I refuse to be the reason my team fails.” Pidge sighed, wiping a droplet of blood from the camera. “I can't be responsible for more deaths. I have to find Dad and Matt before I'm responsible for  _ any _ deaths; I have to be strong. End log number sixty-seven.” 

There wasn't a second before the next one began, but Pidge was wearing his Paladin suit. As far as anyone had been aware, he hadn't left the room Shiro was now in for days. 

“Log number whatever, I don't care; I found a Galra slave base, I found a slave base and it's only two systems away. All the bases are connected; they've got to have information on Matt and Dad; they might even be there; I have to go and find out. I can't believe I was so close for so long, I'm going to go and get whatever information I can, I don't care how, I don't care if I go alone, I have to go. End log--” 

The transmission ended and a new one began. It wasn't from the camera of the laptop, though; it was shaky, and slightly fuzzier, and it showed Pidge in his full Paladin suit, in what looked like a dimly lit holding cell. There was a Galra guard tied to a pipe, unconscious, and Pidge was rooting through the pockets of his suit. 

“He's about to wake up, Rover, are you recording this?”

“Wh...what? Who are you? Where am I? What are you doing?” 

Pidge ripped the helmet away from the soldier’s head and threw it aside, drawing out a jagged blade that was definitely  _ not _ something he received from Princess Allura.

“Where are records of slave transports held?”

“What? Who are you?”

“Answer my question.”

“You think it's going to be that easy to-”

So quickly that Shiro barely saw it, Pidge had leapt onto the guard and forced the blade against his throat, the edge sawing into the wall behind him. 

“-I don't have the time to play nice. Where are the records of slave transports held?”

The guard eyed him warily, not sure if the small creature was bluffing or not. Pidge leaned the blade forward just enough to break skin, tilting his head lazily to the other side. He just observed, until something seemed to click, and his eyelids fell alluringly. His fingertips traced the guard's jaw and fell down his chest in a way that felt almost obscene, bored eyes observing the shocked Galra. Pidge pointed to a spot in his shoulder and began to speak. “There is this lovely little nerve cluster, at least in humans, right there.” He tapped the spot. “And if I was to insert, I don't know, a hypodermic needle into it-”

Pidge pulled a needle from his pack, rolling it through his fingers lazily,

“-well, I honestly don't think your people have a word in your language to describe the pain, but I can describe the effects. First, it will blind you, with no hope for recovery,” he cut the guard’s chest plate away with his Paladin weapon, “and then, after a couple seconds, it starts to bleed right into the chambers of your heart. Now, I don't know how your anatomy works, I must admit there's bound to be some difference between yours and ours, but in the time it takes to kill you, your brain would be so weakened by the pain that you would've told me everything I want to know and then some anyway. So, I'm going to ask again, and with much less leniency-” He pressed the stolen sword into the flesh around it again, just enough for a handful of tiny droplets of blood to make themselves visible, and tapped his victim’s chest with the needle, looking all the more psychotic in his bored expression. “-where are the records of slave transports?”

The guard stared defiantly. The video feed gave a spurt of feedback. Pidge looked lethally bored. 

“...floor seven. The log access room is at the end of the second hall to the right.”

Pidge smiled with a pleased hum.

 

Shiro flushed, emotions confused with pride and fear.

 

The smile was lost and Pidge rammed the needle into his victim’s chest. The Galra screamed, and Pidge silenced him by tightening his grip on the sword.

“That was a cute try, but you're lying. The seventh floor of this ship is strictly a loading bay. What, you think I didn't check the schematics?” Pidge simpered. He glanced down at the needle buried into flesh. “Mm. It looks like I missed it. Oh well, I didn't really have time for it anyway. Try again. Records for slave transport.”

The Galra spat at him. Pidge dodged easily. His Paladin Bayard flared to life, and he observed it with heavy eyelids before dismounting his victim and lowering it to his crotch. “Well, you can either say what I want to hear or say goodbye to Leftie. Do Galra even have separated testicles? Doesn't matter, you're gonna lose whatever’s down there if you don't st-”

“-you're completely insane, aren't you?”

“Probably, but that's not what I wanted to hear. Bye-bye!”

“Wait, wait! There's a detailed log of all the prisoners that are shuttled from this station stored in sector six of floor two!”

Pidge paused with another pleased hum. 

“Have any humans ever been transported through here?”

“Any--any what?”

“Humans, my species, you know exactly what I'm talking about. There are only three earthlings that could ever have possibly been enslaved out here, were they ever aboard this ship?”

“I--I’m not involved in anything to do with physically moving the prisoners, I only ever see them as numbers on screens.”

“Makes it much easier to distance yourself from them, doesn't it?” Pidge purred. He grabbed the needle and yanked it out with little finesse, but left the blade jammed into the wall at the Galra’s neck. He tightened it just enough that the victim could not scream or he would cut his throat, and turned away. Rover beeped softly, and the transmission ended.

 

Another began.

 

Pidge was leaned back with his eyes closed in a pod barely big enough for him and Rover to fit in. He was breathing deeply, shaking. His armor had a deep, burned gouge against the thigh, and blood was quietly seeping through. It looked like a blaster had just grazed him.

 

“L--log--log number seventy...I--I killed him. I killed a Galra officer, he--he shot at me and--and it was me or him, and I--I can't--I can't--oh, oh, okay, it's okay, I--I--” He swiped his helmet off and threw it aside. He looked down and realized that he was still holding his weapon, dripping with some kind of tarry fluid, and threw that away with a cry, too. His head dropped back weakly against the headrest, and his mouth fell open. 

He wailed, a horrible pained sound like a wounded animal. “ _ I was doing this so I wouldn't be responsible for any deaths!”  _

His wail broke apart into sobs. 

 

The transmission ended. 

 

Shiro knew all about the pain of the first kill; he didn't specifically remember his own, but he remembered that grief, that shock. Pidge was smart, incredibly smart; Pidge  _ knew _ that emancipating the Galaxy could not be done passively, at least not entirely passively. But to make his first kill, alone, with nobody to back him up or comfort him...at least Shiro had still had his crew; he remembered that much. He’d had more support from Pidge’s family than Pidge had. 

 

A new transmission started.

 

It was from Rover, and it seemed like the little bot had recorded it unprompted; Pidge did not speak. He was laying on his side on the floor, legs curled slightly. He was curved around his Paladin weapon, which had been cleaned since its lethal use. His fingertips were running over its surface as tears ran down his face. He took in a breath like an old dog, much older than Shiro would ever have wanted him to feel. His thigh was hastily bandaged, and his shorts had been pulled up so they wouldn't rest on the wound. Pidge was barely breathing. It felt like he was barely  _ anything _ , like he was somewhere else entirely. Rover beeped twice. Pidge didn't respond. The drone moved closer to Pidge, swiveling around so it was in his face like an ornery cat. It beeped again twice. Pidge kept staring away. With a hiss of grinding parts, Rover slowly opened his ‘pocket’ compartment, as Pidge called it, and something shot out, hitting Pidge squarely in the face. 

“Owww! Rover! What--” Pidge pushed himself up on an arm, rubbing his forehead, when he looked down and saw what had hit him. It looked to Shiro like a slice of a computer’s motherboard, but much more complicated. He recoiled slowly, touching it gingerly, then picking it up, and looking at Rover in shock. “...You actually got it? I--I dropped this in the fight…” Pidge turned it over in his hands, breath picking up. “Rover! Do you know what this is?!” He laughed, waving it in front of his face. “I can get the logs from it, I can find dad, I can find Matt, I can--” 

Pidge fell to giddy laughter, jumping up and rushing away, throwing open his computer. 

 

A new transmission started right where the last one had left off, from Pidge’s computer. He was ecstatic, holding up the little stick of computer bits. 

“This. This is everything I've been searching for. It's a ripped copy of the logs from the Galra slave transport station, it has the logs of every slave transported from this station and any station it services, I got at least three years back, that's all I need, it will have information on my family and--” 

Pidge seemed to realize something, very suddenly, breath catching in his throat and head jerking up to stare off into the distance. 

“...and Shiro…” 

He looked back at the camera in shock. 

 

The transmission ended. 

 

Another began, but there was a sound from outside the open door. Shiro sat up sharply and closed the laptop, a sudden pain in his neck reminding him of how long he had been hunched over. With a quiet scuffling of feet not lifting entirely off the floor, a figure shambled into the room. 

“Pidge?”

“...Nhh…” 

Pidge mumbled, wavering. His eyes were closed, his head forward. He was sleepwalking, Shiro realized. Quietly, he placed the computer on the floor and stood. What should he do? He didn't know how to handle sleepwalkers. Pidge stumbled closer, another quiet sound escaping him. Shiro stepped up to Pidge and stretched his arms around him, creating a sort of net so he couldn't move away. Pidge shuffled right into his chest, and hummed a sort of happy sound. He leaned into the warmth and linked his arms around Shiro’s waist, hugging him like a big stuffed animal. 

“How did you manage to wander all the way back here? Come on, now, it's bedtime. After everything you've been through the past few days, it's bedtime, and it will be until you're strong again.” 

Pidge groaned some kind of response, squeezing Shiro. He glanced down at the green paladin’s leg. Sure enough, the white gauze edges of a bandage stuck out from under his shorts. Shiro closed his arms around Pidge and tried to gently push him backwards in the direction of the door. 

“Nnnh...Shiro..?”

“Pidge!...Are you awake, or still asleep?”

“Hhhyesssss…”

He rubbed his head against Shiro as he nodded. “You're so waaaaarm…” He preened happily. Shiro laughed softly, both happy and flustered. He wasn't sure what to do; should he wake him?

“Pidge...I…” He placed his hands on Pidge’s shoulders, pulling him away a bit. “I don't know if you're actually awake...or if you would remember this if you're asleep, but...you've been reckless. You need to take better care of yourself.” 

Pidge’s arms dropped from Shiro. 

“I don't deserve it.” He mumbled. 

“What?”

“I'm not...not good enough...I don't get to be happy yet...not until I've earned it…”

“Earned it? Pidge, you don't have to  _ earn _ happiness. Even if you did, you've done more for this team than even I have, and in a time when you didn't even want to be a part of it. Oh, Pidge, I wish I had known sooner how you felt. I would have been there for you, for whatever you needed.”

Shiro knelt down to look Pidge in the face, even though his eyes were still closed. His brow was low, confused. 

“...How I felt..?”

“Er...well, your computer was left open, and I ended up listening to your logs. Sorry.” 

“...you don't even take care of yourself.”

“What?”

“You say I need to take better care of myself...but you don't take care of  _ yourself _ . You haven't slept in almost as long as me, have you?”

Shiro laughed nervously.

“Now I really can't tell if you're asleep or not.”

“...it's time to go to bed…”

“Yes, yes it is.”

“...for both of us..?”

Pidge’s fingers spread over Shiro’s where he was holding his shoulder. Shiro took his hand and held it tightly. 

“Yes. Yes it is.”

  
And they held hands, shambling back through the castle, back to Shiro’s room, to a bed where the blankets were all thrown around and a little droid was charging in the corner, to a nest of hastily piled blankets, to snuggle up under it, so Shiro could wrap his arms around Pidge and keep him from sleepwalking, so Pidge could run his fingertips over the metal arm of a champion to keep the nightmares away, so they could both fall into a deep sleep, and properly rest for the first time since the Holts had gone missing. 

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is forgottenwoundsartist, and there I post art and updates of my fanfictions. Check me out!


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